A Double Knot Part 74

"What do I mean?" cried Clotilde, who was excited with the wine she had drunk, and her desire to sting her sister to the quick. "Why, you did not suppose I was going to sell myself for a position and let you hang back and marry the man I loved."

"The man you loved?" said Marie, turning very pale.

"Yes, the man I loved--Marcus Glen. He loved me, and you knew it, and hung back always, with your soft, cat-like ways, trying to win him from me."

"It is not true," cried Marie.

"Yes, it is, and you know it is true. That's why you refused Lord Henry at first, so that you might win Marcus, as you thought. Do you think I was blind?"

"Clotilde," said Marie, "this is terrible to me! Did you ask me here to-night to insult me?"

"Not I, my dear, only to congratulate you on being such a good, dutiful girl, and obeying our sweetly-affectionate, care-taking, washed-out old aunts. It is so pleasant to see you like I am, and well out in society.

I meant that you should be, and so you are. Why, you are ever so much better off than I am--Lady Henry Moorpark. I ought to rise and make obeisance to you, but I am too lazy. But to set aside joking, you ought to be highly grateful, and kiss me for what I have done."

"I do not understand you," said Marie, unconsciously playing with her wedding-ring.

"Why, I brought you to your senses, silly child!"

"Brought me to my senses!" exclaimed Marie, fighting down an intense desire to rise and leave the room.

"To be sure, my dear; I have quite taken to dear aunts' worldly ideas of what is right for girls to do. You know I did my duty, as they laid it out for me; and then, when I saw my silly sister hang back and spend her time in making eyes at the penniless officer I could not afford to marry, I said. 'This will not do. I love dear Marie too well to let her make a fool of herself. She shall marry Lord Henry Moorpark, or I'll know the reason why.'"

"You are talking folly," said Marie huskily.

"Perhaps so, Rie; but you did not marry my Marcus, and you did marry Lord Henry. Yes, that's the golden link of your slavery, sweet sister,"

she said as she saw Marie touch her wedding-ring; "but how dutiful you must feel! Haven't seen Marcus lately, have you?"

Marie made no reply.

"You don't believe me," continued Clotilde maliciously. "It was very funny how it all turned out. Do you remember the night of our party?"

Did she remember it! The recollection was burned into her brain.

"Poor Marcus!" continued Clotilde, "he is a great goose of a fellow.

How astonished he looked!"

Marie was white and red by turns, and the place seemed to swim round before her; but she fought hard to hide her feelings from her sister's malicious eyes.

"I must do him the justice to say that he behaved very well on the whole."

"Clotilde, you must be mad," said Marie hoa.r.s.ely. "If you were in your right senses, you would not speak like this."

"Oh yes, I would, my dear," laughed Clotilde. "I am no more mad than you are; but I was determined that you should never marry Marcus Glen, and I kept you apart."

"It is false," cried Marie excitedly. "I threw him over for his reckless conduct with you."

"You threw him over because I made you, my dear," said Clotilde contemptuously. "Do you think, Rie, I was going to sit still here as Elbraham's wife, and see you marry Marcus! No, my dear, that I would not do."

Marie was like stone now, and she remained motionless, while Clotilde lay back in her lounge and continued her shameless avowals.

"I wanted to spite you a little, darling, in a kindly sort of way, and I could not have behaved better to you than to help you do your duty to our dear aunts and win a rich husband and a t.i.tle."

"Is this talk for some purpose?" said Marie at last, angrily.

"Yes, my dear, of course it is; but you must be very smooth-faced and quiet now, and not let the gentlemen see that we have been talking about our old beaux. But seriously, Rie, you never thought I should sit down quietly and let you carry off Marcus Glen?"

Marie began to tremble, for a horrible suspicion had a.s.sailed her, one which moment by moment grew more strong; while, seeing the effect of her words, Clotilde went on with malicious glee:

"It would not do at any cost, my dear, so I carried off poor stupid Marcus that night."

"This was your doing, Clotilde," said Marie at last, panting as if for breath.

"To be sure it was. Poor old fellow! He behaved very nicely by holding his tongue and taking all the blame, when he was as innocent as a lamb."

"Innocent!" exclaimed Marie involuntarily.

"To be sure he was, my dear. Why, he was as fond of you as could be, only I led him into that sc.r.a.pe so that he would not be able--"

Clotilde got no farther, for even she was startled at the effect of her words upon her sister, who sprang from her seat and caught her by the hands.

"Clotilde!" she exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely, "this is all a lie! Tell me it is all a lie, and I will forgive you."

"Do as you like, only don't squeeze diamond rings into my fingers. All true enough: Marcus held his tongue, as I tell you, like a lamb, to save my credit. What fools men are!"

"Then--then," wailed Marie, "he was true?"

"Why, my sentimental sister! You ought to bless me instead of looking like that."

For a moment, though, in spite of her forced mirth, Clotilde shrank from her sister's wild gaze, but only to put on an air of bravado as she exclaimed:

"There, Rie, I made up my mind to serve you out, and I did."

Marie drew away from her, gazing in her false, handsome face the while, and sank back in the nearest chair, holding her hands pressed against her side as if she were in terrible pain, while her face worked as a convulsive sob escaped from her breast.

"What does it matter now? You are looking as if--as if--Rie! Here, take my salts."

"Keep back, woman--don't touch me!" cried Marie, in a low voice.

"Sister? No, you must be a demon, and--oh! G.o.d help me! G.o.d help me!"

she wailed; "what have I done?"

Clotilde rushed at her with an imperious "Hush!" but her sister avoided her grasp, and fled to the bell, rang it furiously, and startled Clotilde into silence, as a servant hurried up.

"Quick! I am ill. Fetch Lord Henry," gasped Marie; and as the butler hurried out, she followed him downstairs, leaving her sister too much startled by the effects of her revelation to do more than listen at the half-opened door.

"What do I care!" she said at last. "She is ill, and she is gone. She will not dare to say a word, and I can live down any nonsense on the part of Rie."

The front door closed as she uttered these words, after which she turned back into the room, and threw herself upon a couch.